Your Mother Leaving Home
by Ramzes
Summary: There is nothing worse than your mother leaving home, Nimrod says to John and Philippa. And mind you, he is the one to know. Many years before Layla Gaunt left her home, Ayesha Godwin did.
1. Chapter 1

Your mother Leaving Home

_Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Children of the Lamp belongs to P. B. Kerr.__ Thank you, Mr Kerr, for giving us John, Philippa and everyone else! _

Chapter 1

"I hate cold," the dark-haired girl complained.

Her just as dark-haired, but taller friend threw a quick glance at her. "Who loves it?" she asked. "Come on, Jenny, if we go near Buckingham Palace, we may see the Queen!" she added, obviously trying to reassure both of them.

"And what good will that be to us?" the boy who was walking ahead of them, asked. "It will still be cold. And we'll still be powerless."

The second girl glared at him, readjusting the stripes of her schoolbag on her shoulder. "Well, thank you, Nimrod, for stating the obvious," she snapped.

"Light my lamp, do not argue," the first girl, Jenny, said pleadingly. "It's bad enough as it is. The only thing that I want right now is to sit in front of the fireplace and feel like myself."

_Feel like myself_. The phrase was used everyday by everyone but for these three children – because that was what they were, none of them was older than fourteen – it had literal meaning. They would not feel like themselves for a very long time, at least until spring. Damn it that London weather!

The boy looked around. No one was looking at them. He smiled, pleased, and with a quick motion took a big cigar out of his pocket and lighted it, then inhaled the smoke with almost reverent expression on his face.

"Nimrod!" the second girl hissed. "Whip it off! Mundanes will see!"

The boy – Nimrod – just shrugged. His expression of pure bliss did not falter. The two girls looked at him and then looked at each other. They knew that there was no way to dissuade him.

To a stranger, the three kids – tall, dark-haired, numbed by the cold of London winter – would look like typical teenagers, maybe only a little _too_ attractive, too blessed by God not only with expensive clothes and obviously good financial state, but with their stunning looks and keen, intelligent eyes. In fact, they were anything but typical students coming home after school. You see, the three of them – Layla, Nimrod, and Jenny were their names – were not human beings. They were three young djinn with young strength, which meant that they could disappear, they could change into animals and they could grant wishes. Too bad that right now, they couldn't do even one of these things – unlike people, who are made of earth, djinn are made of fire and they did not fare well with cold weather, like winter, for instance. Since these three were so young, they were practically powerless and would be like this until it started warming. They felt sad, and cold, and felt that spring could not come soon enough.

Layla looked at her brother and scowled in contempt. "Stupid," she said. "Every mundane can see him now."

Mundanes is the word that djinn use to describe human beings. Layla was right about that – the sight of a child who was not older than thirteen smoking a cigar would attract unwanted attention and probably, lots of indignation as well. Djinn are trying to look as mundane as they can, but nothing can change the fact that every source of heat – a fire, a cigarette, or, as in Nimrod's case, a cigar – makes them feel better, while the same thing is not necessarily true for mundanes. Smoking, for one, is very bad for mundanes, while it does nothing but good to djinn. Unfortunately, mundanes don't know it and the sight of a kid walking around with a cigar in his mouth most certainly would not be appreciated.

"Show odd," Layla went on, but both she and Jenny looked with envious eyes the smoke that was spiraling out of Nimrod's mouth.

He suddenly turned around and looked at them, releasing a cloud of smoke that whirled in the shape of the Buckingham Palace. "Want some?" he offered.

"No, thanks," Layla said coolly. "I have no desire to walk in the street, scandalizing bystanders."

Nimrod laughed loudly. "It's up to you, sis," he said and the smoke of his cigar suddenly took the shape of a very angry Layla. He curled his lips in a whistle around the cigar and went on his way.

A few minutes later, Jenny surrendered. "Give it to me," she said, and Nimrod grinned and handed her the cigar, after exhaling smoke in the shape of a smiling mouth. She inhaled deeply and when she reached to give it back to him, Layla silently stretched out a hand, took the cigar and took a breath of it herself.

They kept walking, passing the cigar around. The small coal of warmth that penetrated their bodies was so nice that it dragged out the best in them: Jenny felt that her decision to become a djinn-doctor, so she could help other djinn to feel better strenghtened' Layla thought that maybe, just maybe she would help Nimrod with his homework, and Nimrod decided that he would rethink his decision to make Mrs Morter, his Maths teacher, bald as soon as he got his power back.

People looked at the three teenagers and the cigar with firm disapproval, but the young djinn pretended not to notice. Soon, they were walking in an old, quiet street with big imposing houses and impressive gardens. "Here we are," Nimrod said just when the front door of one of the houses opened to reveal a tall, slim, sinister looking old man, dressed in white robes and white turban. His beard was very long and also white. "Mr Rakshasas!" Layla exclaimed. "I didn't know he was even in London!"

Nimrod swiftly moved in front of Jenny, who was currently holding the cigar; she hurriedly threw the cigar in the snow and stepped on it.

"Mr Rakshasas," Nirmrod said and ran for the man – he was very fond of him. "When did you arrive?"

The old man smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "Just an hour ago. Hello, children," he added, looking at all three of them.

Nimrod glanced at him. "Is something the matter, Mr Rakshasas?" he asked and there was concern in his voice. The old djinn was always quiet and subdued, but this time he was more subdued than usual.

"Has something happened?" Layla asked, frowning.

"No, nothing happened," Mr Rakshasas assured them. "At least, not yet. Come on, let's get inside."

The three kids followed him, whispering to one another, asking what was going on.

The answer was waiting for them in the big entrance hall. There were two women standing in front of the imposive marble staircase. One of them was tall and dark-skinned, with shining black hair and conservative blue suit. She looked glamorous, but her expression was so stern that Nimrod and Layla exchanged quick glances. Was it possible that their mother had learned about a mischief of theirs that she felt should be punished? Maybe she would make them forget their focus words – the words that they needed to concentrate their djinn power – for a certain period of time? Or had she learned about some bad marks in their classes? It was entirely possible.

Then, they saw the other woman and they knew it was something far more serious than that. An eccentric looking woman, visibly at her forties – actually, she was more than one hundred years old – Edwidges the Wandering Djinn was smarter than one would think looking at her shapeless dress, but she was just what her nickname suggested – a wandered, a traveler. First Mr Rakshasas and now Edwidges: something was most definitely happening.

"Hi, Jenny," their mother said.

"Hello, Mrs Godwin," the girl answered, stammering: she must have felt that something was very wrong here, too.

"I'm sorry, but I need to talk to my children alone," Ayesha said. "Edwidges will accompany you to your way home."

Jenny only nodded. "See you later, Layla," she said and Edwidges led her outside.

Again, Layla and Nimrod exchanged glances. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"Search me."

"Well, children," their mother said, "shall we go to the library?"

She had cried, that much was obvious. And she was not looking forward to the following conversation. In fact, she seemed to be in a state that was very untypical to her: she looked as she was afraid and that made Nimrod and Layla afraid themselves.

In the library – a large room full of all sorts of books one could imagine – Layla sat on the sofa; without thinking, Nimrod took a place next to her and took her hand in his own. Their mother sat in an armchair close to them. She was still silent. "What's going on, Mother?" Layla finally asked.

"It's quite simple, actually. You two know that I love you, don't you?"

Layla and Nimrod looked at her, amazed. "Of course we do," he said, stunned. "Why are you telling it to us now?"

His mother sighed and her eyes glistened with tears. "It is the easier part," she said.

"Then what is the harder one?" Layla asked.

Ayesha took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. "I am going to be the Blue Djinn of Babylon," she said.

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**A. N. I plan on writing a second chapter. What do you think about this one? Please, I really want to know.**

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	2. Chapter 2

Your Mother Leaving Home 2

**Disclaimer: No change of circumstances: I still don't own Children of the Lamp. No change of heart either: I still wish I did.**

_Thank you, Suicune lord, TerryTarhop, and Stardawn for your so encouraging reviews._

Chapter 2

The words sank in. Layla and Nimrod looked at her, stunned. "What?" Nimrod finally asked. Layla seemed unable to say even this much.

"I'm going to be the Blue Djinn of Babylon," Ayesha repeated. "I am sorry I have to tell you like this, but I – " She shrugged, helplessly. "I thought it was the best way to let you know."

These words seemed to take Layla out of her fascinated trance. "Mother!" she exclaimed. "We don't care about the _form_ you are giving us this news in. Is it true?"

Ayesha slowly nodded.

"But – but the Blue Djinn lives in Berlin," Nimrod said. "And in Babylon."

"Yes," she said softly, "that's right."

"You're leaving." There was no grief in his voice, just sheer amazement, as if he could not yet believe that his mother was saying what she seemed to be saying.

"Yes."

"When?"

"Today. The old Blue Djinn died a few hours ago and I need to leave as soon as possible."

"But the Blue Djinn is said to be famously hard-hearted," Nimrod kept arguing. "You cannot possibly become the Blue Djinn!"

"I have to."

"But why?" Layla asked. "I don't understand!"

"It's just something that I need to do." Her voice was calm, as always, but the shadow that crossed her face for a moment told the children that it was not easy for her, too. It was another indication that she was very serious. She meant every word she said.

"Mother!" Layla cried. "Maybe we haven't been good lately, but that will change. We won't use our power for whims, we'll do our homework and everything, won't we, Nimrod? Just don't go."

"Stop it!" Ayesha cut her off and the pain on her face became evident. "Do you hear me? Shut up! You two haven't done anything to make me angry. This is not a punishment. It is just a decision that the old Blue Djinn made a while ago and I accepted after careful thought. This isn't easy for me too. And it isn't something that I _want_ to do."

"Then don't do it!" Nimrod said.

"I can't," she answered. "The Old Blue Djinn could not find anyone who was better suited for the position than me. It is something that I am obliged to do, for the well-being of all djinn in the world, including the two of you."

They were silent, looking at her in a way that made Ayesha cringe inwardly: who was she trying to fool? The well-being of all djinn in the world meant nothing to her children right now. All they could see was that they were going to lose their mother. At that moment, she felt the greatest temptation to change her mind and cancel the whole thing that she had felt since she had agreed to take the position. Only, there was the small matter that even if she decided that she wanted to, it was simply too late. The old Blue Djinn had anointed her and she had accepted. And the former Blue Djinn was dead. There was no one else who would take the position – no one could, except for the chosen successor. And there was no way that djinn could survive without a Blue Djinn – at least not in the relative peace that they had enjoyed for thousands of years. There was no changing of plans.

"I have made some arrangements for you," she said. "Mr Rakshasas and Edwidges will take care of you until you are old enough to take care of yourselves. You like them, right?"

"We do," Nimrod said, and then added cruelly, "Just not as much as we like _you_."

Ayesha quickly wiped her eyes. That was turning to be even harder than she had expected.

"Oh Mother, don't do it!" Layla exclaimed.

"I need to," Ayesha repeated and then switched back to businesslike tone. "You'll be well-provided for. You can keep this house and everything else. The only thing I will take is the house in Berlin."

Layla seemed to put her brain in action again. "Of course," she said. "The Blue Djinn always lives in Berlin, right?"

The question did not require an answer. Layla squeezed Nimrod's hand harder and Ayesha suddenly felt calmer. _They will survive, _she thought_. They will help each other._

"I must go," she said. "It's time for me to leave. I want just want thing of you two: don't forget that I love you. Even when I change – and I will change, the Blue Djinn always changes, I don't know how exactly, but she does, - even when I do, remember that the real me does love you more than anything. I am not doing this because I _want_ to – I am doing it because I _have to_."

No one said a word. Ayesha sighed, realizing how lame her words had sounded. What did it matter whether she loved them or not? What did it _change_?

"I'll go to and get my things ready," she said, desperate to get away from them, so she could put her own thoughts in order.

Two hours later, looking pale and more glamorous than ever, she hesitated at the front door of her luxurious London house – her former house, now. She was tempted to raise her head and look at the window of the library, where she knew that she would see two faces looking at her, but she decided against it – it would just make things harder. For all of them.

She left without looking back.

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_Later this night…_

"Layla? Is that you?"

The girl hesitated at the door, before finally entering, stepping cautiously in the dark room. "Sorry for waking you up."

"I wasn't sleeping anyway. Come here."

Nimrod switched his reading lamp on and Layla saw that he was really fully awake. Not that she was surprised – how could he sleep after what had happened today. He was fully dressed, sitting on his bed under a pile of blankets. He held out a hand and Layla went to him, snuggling under the blankets. She realized that he had put warmers all over the bed and she felt herself relaxing in the heat – being warmed always made djinn feel better, no matter what – but it could not provide them the kind of warmth they both longed for. Nimrod put an arm around his sister's shoulders and Layla clung to him. "What are we going to do now, Nimrod?" she asked.

"I have no idea. Maybe Mum will rethink her decision."

She clung to that hope. "Maybe," she said. "Or maybe she won't really change this much. I mean, I know that Blue Djinn is hard-hearted – everyone knows that! – but I can't believe that she will stop loving us just like that!"

A month later she believed it.

"How was it?" Mr Rakshasas asked as soon as he and Edwidges were alone. Layla had gone to her room and Nimrod had gone out, in the garden.

"It was as bad as you can imagine." She sighed. "I shouldn't have taken them there, but they insisted so much – "

"So, Ayesha had already changed?"

"Fully," she confirmed.

There was no need to say more, they both knew what had happened. The woman that they had known was no more. She would stay in Layla and Nimrod's memories and hearts as a stern, yet devoted mother – and a dead one, as well. Because the Blue Djinn of Babylon – almost a woman and the most powerful djinn that had ever existed, each one stronger than her predecessor – enjoyed many privileges, among them an almost absolute power over every djinn of all six tribes, both good and evil, being the supreme arbiter between Good and Evil, - but she had to pay a high price for that: she had to spend her life in total indifference to both good and evil and every semblance of feeling was literally cut off of her. Nobody knew the techniques that were used to achieve this effect, but it was a fact: there had never been a Blue Djinn who was capable to either hate or love anyone, never. Ayesha Godwin would not be exception.

"These poor children," Edwidges sighed.

"They will cope with this," Mr Rakshasas assured her. "They are strong."

"For their sake, Mr Rakshasas, I hope that you're right."

A few hours later, they found the children in the living room, sitting so near the flames in the fireplace that every mundane would have been turned into a toast. They looked sad, but calm.

"Are you feeling better?" Edwidges asked.

Layla smiled faintly, looking for all the world as a waif – a very, very beautiful waif with perfect skin, glossy black hair and sad eyes. "A little," she said.

"Now, children," Mr Rakshasas said, "I want you two to listen to me: it won't be easy, but you _will_ make it. Finally. I know you can do this. And Edwidges and I will always be here for you, when you need us and even when you don't."

"From your lamp, you mean?" Nimrod joked weakly.

It was a well-known fact in djinn society that Mr Rakshasas suffered from agoraphobia after being imprisoned in a bottle for more than fifty years. Since then, he had been living in his lamp, going out only for short periods of time.

"Yes, even from there," Mr Rakshasas confirmed, pleased to see that Nimrod was displaying at least some resemblance of his old, joking, mischievous self. "I am sorry for the pain that you have to go through. I wish I could change things, but I can. Nobody can. I am sorry that you had to see your mother like that, but keep that in mind: that is not your mother. At least not the mother you knew. She is the Blue Djinn now."

"I think we already know that." There was unmistakable bitterness and edge in Nimrod's voice.

"Yes, you do. I've known Ayesha for many years, long before you two were born. If that can be a comfort at all, I can tell you something for sure: this Ayesha loved you with all her heart."

There was a long silence. The two children seemed to be considering that. Finally, Nimrod stood up and held out a hand. "Come on, Layla. He is right. Mother is part of the past now, isn't she? It's you and me now."

Layla took his hand and let him draw her to her feet. The four of them were headed for the dining room, when Layla suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. "If I ever have children," she vowed, "I will never leave them. Never! Never!"

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**So, that was it – my first story in Children of the Lamp section. What do you think? Did I manage to draw a plausible picture of Ayesha's departing?**

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